


Holding Out For A Hero

by scatteringmyashes



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27083776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatteringmyashes/pseuds/scatteringmyashes
Summary: Achilles is a famous hero. Patroclus helps organize Make-A-Wish meetings. Can I make it anymore obvious?In which Achilles struggles to balance his heroics with his want for a relationship, Patroclus wants to see the man underneath the helmet, and one cannot kill Skelly in any way that matters.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Hades Video Game), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I told myself I'd wait to write more Patrochilles until I finish some other stuff, but this idea took hold and beat me up for my lunch money. Whoops.
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy! This part is pretty much most of the fluff to be fair, though the fic itself is mostly cute stuff anyways. 
> 
> Also, I do have Achilles and Pat as trans men in this! It's not a huge part of their story, but it's important to me so here I am. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Remember, you have a meeting at one, so we need to leave at noon to get there on time. And there will be media outside, but not in the hospital," Skelly, his perpetual shadow of an assistant, reminded him yet again. Achilles nodded, tugging on his collar.

"Is this really necessary? Last time I just wore my uniform…" He preferred the flowing cape and Greek chiton over a formal suit any day of the week. Only his bronze helmet, which fully covered his face except for a slit for his eyes, remained from his normal uniform. 

"The doctors requested that you come in normal clothes, so it was either this or jeans. Apparently they were worried about your armor being too sharp or something? I dunno." Skelly slapped him on the back. "Don't worry, boyo, it's only an hour!" 

Achilles sighed as the car pulled up to the hospital. There was, indeed, a number of reporters waiting to get a photo of the famous Achilles when he wasn't fighting a supervillain. He resisted the urge to tell the driver to turn around. There was a reason he wore a helmet to cover his face and it wasn't because he was ugly.

"Patroclus asked for you specifically," Skelly added, knocking on the shaded glass that separated the back of the car from the front. "Park somewhere in the back and come back out when we're ready. If you want, grab yourself a sandwich."

"Hrrrrgnnnn," Charon replied, which was probably  _ Yes, understood. _

"Wait, Patroclus will be here?" Achilles looked at his suit. It was a bit too tight, the consequence of being several years old, and it was a little scuffed at the ends. He wondered if it would be rude to ask if he could change into something more attractive. 

"Always is, boyo," Skelly pointed out. "Now, out! We gotta say hi to the kids." 

"Of course." Achilles swallowed and steeled himself. He could deal with a bit of media attention if it meant seeing Patroclus. 

Oh, and he did promise to spend some time with kids dealing with cancer. Just hero things.

Even though no one could see his face, he still grinned when he threw open the car door. Immediately, lights flashed and people shouted questions. Several microphones were thrust at him, though he towered over most of the people present. He squinted and, after a moment, gave up on trying to focus on anyone in particular.

"Myrmidon, how do you feel about your last fight against the Trojans—" 

"Myrmidon! Do you have anything to say about the accusations from Theseus?" 

"Sir, sir, can we get a comment on the pictures of your mentee with the anti-hero Thanatos?" 

"Can we get your catchphrase for the cameras?" 

Achilles squared his shoulders, put his hands on his hips, and bellowed, 

"Fear is for the weak!" 

A cheer went up and Achilles used it as an excuse to make a beeline for the doors, Skelly hustling behind him and acting as a buffer between him and the more eager reporters. But he was the fastest footed hero in the city and soon he was inside the hospital, the reporters dissuaded from following thanks to the security guards. 

Inside the hospital, the most handsome man in the world stood chatting with one of the nurses. He was wearing a dark green sweater that hugged his chest and khakis that clung to thighs that entirely represented the saying  _ thick thighs save lives _ . He chuckled at something the nurse said, eyes squeezing shut. Achilles felt his heart skip a beat, not unlike the time Zeus accidentally hit him with a thunderbolt. 

"Sir? Are you okay?" One of the security guards asked. Achilles cleared his throat.

"Yes, thank you. I believe that Mr. Menoetius will take it from here." Achilles strode forward, starting to wave and then yanking his hand back down when he realized how stupid that looked. He was a fully grown man! He beat up supervillains for a living! He was here to help motivate children dealing with one of the worst things they could encounter! He did not wave like a _high school_ _girl_. 

Hopefully Patroclus didn't notice, because he turned towards the hero then. He had a serious expression, none of his earlier humor present. Achilles wished that he had the honor to make Patroclus smile. He was quite certain he could live happily if he did. 

"Oh, hello, Myrmidon. I am Patroclus Menoetius. We—"

"We've met before," Achilles said, extending a hand anyways. Patroclus had a firm grip, no doubt unafraid of harming the indestructible hero. "I remember. Last month's gala." 

"Right. You were one of the guests of honor. I did not think — well, it does not matter. I understand you are busy, so we shall start quickly." Patroclus gestured for Achilles to follow him, which he did with gusto. "Thank you for your participation, Myrmidon. The children have been looking forward to this for the last month. Many of them have also made you cards." 

"That is wonderful," Achilles replied earnestly. "Skelly, will you—" 

"I've got it. Your loyal subject here to collect your gifts!" Skelly gave an exaggerated salute. Achilles rolled his eyes. 

"Thank you. I read the paperwork provided," he told Patroclus, "But is there anything else I should know?"  _ Like your phone number or your ring size. Or both. Both is good. _

"No," Patroclus replied. "If you have any questions during the visit, please let me know. I will be here the whole time." 

"That's good," Achilles blurted out. He had never been more happy that his face was hidden when Patroclus gave him a strange look. "I mean only, you seem to know a great deal about this. I am certain your knowledge will be useful." 

Patroclus nodded, looking away to punch a code on the elevator. "Thank you. We will use the express elevator. It is faster." 

Achilles didn't say that he would probably be faster just going up the stairs, even though that was the truth, more than happy to spend more time with Patroclus. 

"So, boyo, how long have you been working with Make-A-Wish?" Skelly asked as the doors closed. The tension in Achilles's shoulders went out. It was hard, after all, to be stressed when a zombie punching bag accompanied you. 

"About ten years." 

"What did you do before?" 

"Feel free to ignore him," Achilles told Patroclus. "We usually do."

"Hey!" Skelly protested. 

"It is all right. I was an EMT."

"Oh? See, Myrmidon, you two have things in common. You both love to save people and not sleep." Skelly elbowed Achilles in the side, which might have hurt if Achilles wasn't invulnerable. 

"I have no idea what you mean," Achilles lied. He glared at Skelly, hoping that he could sense the sentiment. 

"What are your thoughts on dogs?" Skelly asked Patroclus, oblivious to Achilles's attempts to develop the ability to kill the unkillable with sheer willpower alone. 

"... I like them." The evelater  _ dinged _ . "We are here." Patroclus stepped out. 

"I will kill you," Achilles threatened Skelly once Patroclus was out of earshot. 

"Not in a way that matters!" Skelly reminded him, walking after Patroclus. Achilles grit his teeth and followed, praying he could keep his temper in check. He had the car ride later to strangle Skelly, after all. 

****

Actually, the first time Patroclus and Achilles met was about fifteen years ago. In Patroclus's defense, it had been a pretty manic night. He was an EMT and Achilles wasn't a hero, he was just a stupid guy who got into lots of fights. He hadn't even been particularly noble, but he had won and that was what mattered. 

"How old are you?" Patroclus asked, shining a flashlight in his eyes. 

"Twenty-five," Achilles said. "Can I go yet? I feel fine." He did not feel fine. His knuckles were bruised, there was blood dripping down his forehead, he could feel swelling all along his jaw and across his ribs, and he probably had a concussion. But he didn't like the way the EMT kept looking at him, like he had to be carted off in an ambulance. He liked looking at the EMT, who was the most handsome of the bunch, but Achilles knew that hospitals were not his friend. 

Patroclus held up a hand. "How many fingers am I holding up?" 

"Three. I don't have a concussion, I promise. I know what those feel like." Achilles grinned. He knew there was blood staining his teeth. "You should check on the other guys. I beat the shit out of them." 

"Hm." Patroclus rolled his shoulders. "Well, I want to bandage your hands. I can't force you into an ambulance, but I think you do have a concussion. I'll give you a handout about next steps, but essentially avoid electronic screens for another day and don't sleep for the next eight hours. Set alarms or whatever. Also, avoid excess physical activity for the rest of the week. You'll also want to have a check up in the next week, if not sooner. The answer was four, by the way."

Achilles groaned, starting to lean back but stopping when his back screamed in protest. The bench was cold but he had a bright orange blanket that was keeping the worst of the chill away. Patroclus just popped open his first aid kit and held his hands out. Sensing the uselessness of an argument, Achilles let Patroclus start dabbing his hands with antiseptic. 

He didn't even hiss at the stinging, instead distracted by the way Patroclus had his hair pulled back with a genuine piece of leather or how his bright blue scrubs highlighted the dark curves of his arms and barely visible collarbones. Achilles had spent many years agonizing over his gender — his sexuality had been immediate. Nights like this just confirmed what he knew already: men were attractive. Doctors with dark hair and muscles and who oozed competence? Hot. Very hot. 

"So, what if I have questions about my health later?" Achilles asked. 

"Hm?" 

"Well, should I call a doctor or can I just call you?" Achilles tried for a more flattering smile. 

Patroclus snorted. "Did you just ask for my number?" 

"It depends. Will you give it to me?" 

"I cannot give a patient my number," Patroclus replied. 

"If I'm cleared, then I'm not your patient anymore." Achilles did wince as Patroclus started wrapping bandages around his knuckles. "I — I promise I'm not usually like this."

"You do not get into fights?" Patroclus probably sounded doubtful because Achilles had definitely dealt more than he had been served — the other guys weren't given the option of going in an ambulance because they were given the red light and siren treatment. 

"No," Achilles confessed, "I just usually win them." 

Patroclus chuckled. Achilles felt his heart soar.

"I am going to get you the handout. Again, my professional advice is for you to go to the hospital."

"Nope," Achilles said once again. "But thanks." 

Patroclus rolled his eyes as he stood. "Is there anything that I, professionally, can do to convince you otherwise?" 

"Define professionally." Achilles felt something in his chest snap and he cried out. Patroclus knelt back down, gently cradling his jaw and placing another light touch on his waist. 

"Can you breathe?" He murmured. Achilles nodded, though he knew his time was up. "If you are worried about the doctors, the hospital is LGBT friendly," Patroclus said even softer. 

Achilles felt his blood run cold, and it had nothing to do with his injuries. "I—" 

"I'm the same." Patroclus glanced around before tugging at his collar. There was a dark, skin-colored binder strap that was barely visible. Achilles nodded. "It is safe." 

_ I wish. _

"Thanks, but really. I will be fine." Achilles summoned up enough strength to gently push Patroclus away. "I'd say look out for the other guys, but they're transphobic assholes so fuck them." He stood, wobbling slightly. The night was still young. If he was fast enough, he could do his laundry before sleeping for the night. 

"Wait." Patroclus reached into his pocket and pulled out an old phone. "What's your number? If you are going to walk off, then I want to be able to make sure you aren't dead tomorrow." 

Achilles grinned and gave it to him. A moment passed and then he felt his own phone vibrate. 

"Cool. We can catch up over a cup of coffee." There was a shout as one of the more senior EMTs seemed to just notice what was happening, her attention free now that the more critical patients were on their way to the hospital. "Oh, have to run. But — what name should I put for my savior?" Achilles laid it on thick but Patroclus just smiled. 

"My name is Patroclus." 

Achilles burst out laughing. Patroclus frowned, but before he could say anything, Achilles said, 

"It's funny — my name is Achilles. Good night, Patroclus. I look forward to seeing you another day." He left without another word, taking off into the darkness of the park with blessed speed. His healing, unnatural in speed and haste, kicked in right as he slammed his apartment door shut. He'd be fine in the morning, which actually only posed a problem in that Patroclus would no doubt want to know how he was doing.

But that would be a problem for him in the future, he decided, throwing his clothes in the laundry basket. Laundry would also be a tomorrow problem, Achilles gaining just enough energy to clear his fridge of leftovers before falling into bed.

In the morning, he was good as new. 

There was also a voicemail — not from Patroclus, but an unknown number. Usually, he'd ignore it. But he was in a good mood and he opened it, tucking the phone between his shoulder and cheek as he chugged orange juice. His breakfast heated in the toaster, which he huddled around as it was the warmest part of his apartment. 

"Hello, Achilles. I have seen your work and find it interesting. Messy, but with potential. If you want to make the world better, then we should talk. You know me as Chiron. Come to the bookstore on Styx and Pelion." The call ended. Achilles swallowed. 

He wasn't there when his toast popped out. 

****

The House of Hades was the formal base for the Chthonic League, a collection of anti-heroes and vigilantes who couldn't get legalized through traditional means. They weren't villains but weren't welcome in most circles, kept to the fringes of society for one reason or another. It was there, at the secret entrance in the heart of the city, that Achilles picked up Zagreus. 

Dressed in uniform, Achilles waited on the roof while Zagreus hopped up the stairs — the entrance was hidden as a record studio, the kind that never had musicians but plenty of appointments — and waited for traffic to pass before crossing the street. He looked particularly happy which brought a smile to Achilles's face. It was nice seeing his mentee pleased with himself, especially when it was so rare.

Carefully, Zagreus ducked into an alley. Achilles didn't see him disappear, but then— 

"Hello, sir! What are we doing today?" Zagreus asked, emerging from behind Achilles. 

"Hello, lad. We just have a basic patrol today." Achilles stretched, feeling the breeze catch on his cloak and chiton. It looked much more loose than it actually was. Through the magic of modern fabrics, he could fight villains all without worrying about it ripping unceremoniously or showing anything, ah, personal. His helmet was also bulletproof, which was pretty handy. "There has been an increase in crime in the Arts District. We will start there. If it is quiet, then we will go closer to Skid Row and visit Eurydice."

"Oh!" Zagreus grinned. "That would be good." He waited, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Sir? Is everything okay?"

"Yes." Achilles considered his next words. "I am happy for you and Thanatos. I just wanted to let you know that. It is rare to see him so happy. I hope he makes you feel that way too." 

"Thank you. Truly." Zagreus swallowed. "I didn't plan on telling the world yet, but we are happy so it does not matter to me. If you didn't approve, I would still be happy." Then, because the world hated him, Zagreus grinned. "Skelly was telling me about a hospital visit and an attractive nurse?" 

"I am going to kill that skeleton," Achilles muttered. "Come on. We have more important things to do than gossip." Without room for argument, Achilles jumped off the roof and onto the other. 

He soared through the air, as light-footed as Hermes and powerful as Heracles. Achilles breathed deep, feeling suspended in time at the height of the arc. His muscles were strong and his silhouette distinct. Among all heroes, he was the greatest. This was what he wanted to do. This was worth it all. 

_ Fear is for the weak, _ he thought. 

"He's a zombie, technically," Zagreus argued, dashing through the air. Today, it seemed to shimmer around him. Shields glowed in and out of vision, pushing the air around him. 

"He's an ex-EMT, technically," Achilles shot back as he landed on the next roof, knees bending underneath him. Zagreus tilted his head. 

"Skelly?" 

"No, the—"

"Oh, your man. Right, well." Zagreus shrugged. "Do you like him?" 

"I think this is an inappropriate conversation." Achilles went for the next roof, intent on leap-frogging himself to the Arts District and away from this conversation.

Zagreus followed, though he was less eager to change the topic. "It isn't a bad thing! Megaera told me that it's normal to like others who we find competent." 

"What did she  _ actually _ say?" Achilles asked, almost scared of the answer. 

"Well… she may have said something about my, uh, attraction to people who could kick my ass." Zagreus laughed. "I reminded her that I've won our last five fights." He had a look on his face and Achilles almost questioned him, but decided that it would be a bit hypocritical to ask if he was hiding from his feelings when that was exactly what Achilles was doing. 

So instead, in the name of maturity, he just kept jumping and Zagreus kept following. 

"Sir, may I ask you something?" Zagreus asked when they finally settled on the top of a particularly tall highrise, the kind with apartments filled with chrome and open layouts and rent more a month than Achilles made in a year. Heroics really didn't pay. 

"You may," Achilles replied. 

"Have you ever tried, you know, being in a relationship? While you've been a hero." Zagreus looked at his feet, which dangled off the edge of the roof. Achilles had long since stopped worrying about what Zagreus did with his physical person. While a drop of this height would harm even Achilles, nothing could hurt Zagreus in a meaningful way. 

Besides, he probably could just dash out of it. 

Zagreus had other, more important things on his mind. "Like, how do you go on dates when you have different schedules? Where do you even go? We haven't even told each other our secret identities yet. Is that something that we should talk about now or later? How long is too long to wait?" 

Despite the growing panic in Zagreus's voice, Achilles couldn't help but chuckle. "Steady, lad. You only just started seeing Thanatos recently. You do not need to plan the rest of your life in a week." 

"I suppose." Zagreus deflated. "I just worry."

"Which is natural. But you cannot control the future. You can set it up to be the best it can be, but fate does not like to be reigned in." Achilles thought about the last time he had even considered a relationship. It felt like an eon ago. "I have not dated since I took the mantle of Myrmidon. It was a decision I made with full knowledge that I would probably never find somebody, but it is not something to make lightly. Nor is it something that everyone else would make." 

"You really think you will never find someone?" 

Achilles thought of eyes like rich earth and a voice like warm fire, of careful hands and the sensation that he wanted to know this person more than anyone he had ever met before. He didn't truly believe in soulmates, but if there were to be an argument for one… 

"I think that my time has past for things such as crushes." Achilles pat Zagreus on the back. "Besides, don't you have enough to worry about? You do not need to concern yourself about me, lad. In fact, it is fine if you never want to ask again." 

"Alright." Zagreus sighed, looking out over the city with his mismatched eyes. "But I think you could convince the nurse to go out with you. Skelly said that he was looking at you the whole time."

Achilles sighed and reminded himself that tossing Zagreus off the top of the rooftop was not a great teaching strategy.

****

It was entirely on accident and Achilles would swear that to his grave. He just happened to be in the area and when a hero heard ambulance sirens then it was his duty to follow. And if he happened to see that there was a familiar face among the paramedics, as well as another unfortunately familiar hero, then Achilles was well within his rights to closely investigate. 

"Ho, Myrmidon! You arrive late, I must inform you. We have already apprehended the villainous demons and they are on their way to a holding cell that they shan't escape." Theseus, gaudy golden mask covering his face and his unnecessarily flashy ammo crossed over his chest in a gay mockery of Rambo, declared as Achilles approached. 

"I wanted to see if you needed my help," Achilles replied. "Hello, Minotaur."

The Minotaur, also known by his actual name Asterius, snorted. He was talking with some of the paramedics, probably doing the real work now that the glory of fighting was over. Theseus went back to describing the fight to a group of fans, waving his arms and gesturing to his chariot every once in a while. Eager to avoid listening to the tale, Achilles went to where his favorite tall, dark, and handsome man was standing. 

"Is everything alright?" Achilles asked. Patroclus looked at him, eyes widening for a moment before his expression settled into something more neutral. 

"Myrmidon! Everything is fully under control. This gentleman was simply giving his account of the events, though this is an open-and-shut case," the officer who was interviewing Patroclus assured him. 

"Were you injured?" Achilles focused on Patroclus, who had an orange emergency blanket around him. 

"Yes," Patroclus confessed. "I got caught in some debris — I will be fine, though. Thank you for your concern." 

Achilles nodded. He swallowed. Was his helmet usually this hot? Was his chiton dirty? He hadn't washed it in a few days. At least he wasn't covered in blood, which was not always the case. 

"Sir, was there something else I could help you with?" The officer spoke up, shifting back and forth.

"Oh — no, thank you." Achilles gestured vaguely behind him. "I was just passing through." He still didn't leave. Behind him, Theseus was making machine gun sounds with his mouth. Achilles wished that he had the superpower of selective deafness. 

"If there is nothing else you need, officer, may I leave?" Patroclus asked. The officer nodded and Patroclus shrugged off the emergency blanket. He folded it in a few quick movements, placing it on a nearby bench. "It is a pleasure seeing you, Myrmidon." 

He started to walk off and Achilles, ever the fool, followed. Patroclus barely even glanced at him. 

"I do not need an escort, sir," Patroclus told him in that deep, even tone. "My car is just over there." 

Achilles felt his brain fill with static. "Ah, well, I simply—"

"I am teasing you." And indeed, now that Achilles looked, there was a slight gleam in Patroclus's eyes. "Besides, I never got to thank you for your visit to the hospital last month. The children still talk about it."

"I'm happy to have helped," Achilles said in earnest. "If you ever need to see me again, I will be there." 

Patroclus's lips quirked in a half-smile. "If I need to see you again, hm?"

_ Thank the gods for helmets, _ Achilles thought, certain his face was bright red. 

"If you wish for me to see the children, I mean," he clarified. 

"Oh, and here I am thinking that you are asking me on a date." Patroclus kept walking but Achilles almost tripped over thin air. Thankfully, Patroclus didn't make any indication that he had noticed. "Are heroes allowed to go on dates?" 

"Not usually with civilians," Achilles confessed, catching up in two long strides. Patroclus was taller than him, if only by a few inches, and he took confident steps of a man who was unbothered to slow down for others. Achilles wondered if there was real merit to Megaera's theory. 

"And what do you think?" Patroclus wondered.

"About you?" 

"About heroes going on dates with civilians." 

"Oh, of course." Achilles realized they had stopped walking, having arrived at their destination. 

Patroclus was fiddling with his car keys, trying to meet Achilles's eyes but unable to see them. His car was old but clean, a shiny silver hybrid from several years back. Inside, there was a box filled with bright pamphlets that Achilles couldn't read through the shaded windows. 

"Heroes have a responsibility to maintain peace and promote equality through their city. They aren't supposed to have favorites." Achilles could feel Patroclus look him over and had never wished that his chiton went past his thighs more. "But we are only human." 

"Oh?" Patroclus's voice was so soft, Achilles wondered if he even knew he spoke. 

"It is dangerous. When heroes have favorites, they are targets. Villains do not stop, do not hesitate to hurt and harm. The reason heroes date other heroes is because they know what they are getting into." 

"I was an EMT. I know what can happen out there." 

Achilles had to resist the urge to say,  _ Why did you stop? Did you ever think of me again? Am I the only one who thinks about what could have been? _ Instead, he nodded 

"Yes." He licked his lips.

"What is it that you say all the time? Fear is for the weak?" Patroclus — was he teasing Achilles? Yes, there was that friendly shine in his eyes and the half-smirk on those perfect lips. Achilles could have passed as a lovestruck school girl, might as well have been one for all that mattered. 

"Fear is for the weak," he echoed. Patroclus watched him with those bright eyes. He had a few cuts on his hands and a rip in his sweater, but he looked mostly unharmed. Still, Achilles had the irrational urge to grab him and keep him safe, keep him away from the rest of the world. As if all his heroics were useless if Patroclus was harmed. 

Achilles squared his shoulders. 

"Patroclus, would you like to go on a date with me?" 

And oh, the way Patroclus smiled could launch a thousand ships. "I would enjoy that, yes. Will you be wearing that?" 

"I do not have to," Achilles replied. "Would you like me to?" 

Patroclus's gaze turned into something warmer, his eyes tracing lines across Achilles's half-bare thighs and his bulging biceps. His eyes finally snapped back to Achilles's face, his Adam's Apple bobbing as he swallowed. 

"If you like. I would not mind." Then, in a moment that Achilles would remember for the rest of his life, Patroclus carefully leaned forward and squeezed Achilles's hand in his own. "Do you need my number?" 

"I — I think I have it somewhere." There was paperwork, right? Something from Make-A-Wish stuffed into a drawer somewhere? 

"Just in case, here." Patroclus had to let go of Achilles's hand, but he opened his car and then pulled a flyer out, scrawling his number on the back in red pen. "I have a… flexible schedule." 

"I am a bit of a night owl usually." 

"Isn't Night Owl a different hero?" Patroclus grinned. 

Achilles laughed. "You are thinking of Athena." He took the paper and felt his face break into a huge smile. "I will text you. I — I should go for now." 

"Of course." 

Still, neither of them moved. A car drove by blaring music out the windows. Achilles wasn't even phased. The wind was gently blowing through Patroclus's hair. It looked soft and Achilles wondered if it was too intimate to cup his cheek, bring their foreheads together. They couldn't kiss, not with his helmet on, but Achilles had no doubt that Patroclus's lips were soft as clouds. 

Before Achilles could say anything, his communicator went off. He let out a nervous laugh.

"I will — I will take this. Goodbye for now, Patroclus." As he ran off, he could still feel his heart beating a hundred miles a minute.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So you'll notice that the chapter count has been updated. I was struggling to write this one and keep it short while also containing all of the scenes I wanted, so you'll be getting three chapters instead of two. Thanks for your support so far, it's really very motivational. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter out sometime early December.
> 
> In the meantime, I hope you enjoy!

"You know, Myrmidon, you have the title of a foot soldier. In antiquity, a myrmidon was a follower of a greater leader." Patroclus was swirling his milkshake straw around with otherwise idle fingers, his eyes on Achilles's face. 

Rather than his usual helmet, Achilles wore one that had an opening for his mouth, since it would have been beyond odd for Patroclus to eat while he did not. This helmet still covered most of his visage, but it meant that Patroclus could look him in the eyes. 

"They were. I find no shame in using their name. I am but one of many heroes." Achilles smirked. "Though I am one of the best known ones." 

"That is true." Patroclus pulled his straw out and sucked some of the milkshake off the end. "And here I am, an organizer for a charity, on a date with Mr. Hero of the Year." 

"Oh, only last year," Achilles said. Patroclus raised an eyebrow. "And the year before that… and a few years before that…" It was a little embarrassing to list out all his achievements but, well, it was true. 

"My co-workers thought I was lying." Patroclus leaned forward. His elbows propped up on the table, slightly pushing his mostly empty plate aside. "I almost thought it was a figment of my imagination. A dream." 

"If it is, then it is at least a good dream." 

The two of them were tucked in a private room in the best cafe in the city. Eurydice's was favored by the locals and heroes alike, and she had a secluded room for those who didn't want to be seen. It was there, served by Eurydice herself, that Patroclus and Achilles had their date. The food was, as always, amazing and the aesthetic was relaxed and welcoming. 

Achilles kept pinching himself, still half-convinced that he was hallucinating. There was no other answer for how he could be sitting there looking at Patroclus smile and talk and  _ tease  _ him after eating some of the best food in the world. 

"I have enjoyed this greatly. You really are as charming as all the interviews suggest." Patroclus had a bit of sauce smeared on the side of his mouth. Achilles wondered if it was rude to reach over and wipe it off. "I would not mind doing this again." 

"I feel the same. Your company is… wonderful. Is it pretentious if I say that I haven't felt this drawn to someone in years?" Achilles asked. 

Patroclus licked his lips and the chance to touch his face passed. "No, if you allow me to return the sentiment." He laughed, low and steady. "Look at us — we sound like a couple of school girls, not fully grown men." 

"I am surprised that someone such as yourself has not already been spoken for. Surely there is someone who has expressed interest?" 

"Many, but they never felt right." Patroclus's face shifted through several expressions before returning to his original smile, though a little more strained. "But that is in the past. What of yourself? A famous hero should have no shortage of options and yet you select someone you have barely shared five words with." 

Achilles briefly debated the merit of replying  _ well you patched me up once after I beat up a bunch of transphobes and you gave me your number, but I had to go to super secret hero training the next day so I never called you back. _ He decided that was not a good idea. 

"Am I allowed to say that I think it's fate?" He said instead. Patroclus snorted but shrugged, sipping at his milkshake again. 

"You may say whatever you wish, I suppose." 

Before Achilles could respond, the door opened and Eurydice walked in. 

"Hiya, gentlemen. Let me get these plates out of your way." She looked Achilles right in the eyes, no shame or fear in her expression. "Anything else I can grab you?"

"Patroclus, would you like anything else? The brownie cake here is to die for." 

"I will trust your judgement. It seems to have served you this far." Patroclus didn't take his eyes off of Achilles and, for a moment, Achilles forgot how to breathe. 

"So, thoughts?" Eurydice prompted. 

"Oh! Yes, well, let's have the brownie cake with vanilla ice cream. We'll split it." 

"Sounds good, hon." Eurydice left with a knowing look, one that made Achilles's cheeks red. 

Once she was gone, they were left with only the soft croon of jazz playing over the speakers and the  _ thud _ of Achilles's heart. He hoped he didn't seem nervous. He was quite sure that his blush was hidden by his helmet, but what if it wasn't? Then again, Patroclus hadn't run away screaming or disappeared into the bathroom for an uncomfortable amount of time yet… 

"So I have been avoiding bringing up your work as much as possible, but I feel like I have done most of the talking. Am I allowed to ask you to tell me about yourself, or is that secret?" Patroclus asked, birth dancing in his eyes.

"I can answer some questions. What else am I supposed to talk about in interviews?" Achilles grinned. "For example, people love asking me about pets."

"Oh?" Patroclus leaned forward, open to playing the game. 

"I'm a dog person, but I do not have one. I keep too odd of hours."

"Did you have one as a child?" 

"Yes, a little yappy one that my mother adored. He was a bit of a brat, but he was very affectionate. I was twelve when he died." 

"I grew up with cats. Four of them. They all hated me and it broke my heart as a kid.” Patroclus was smiling, though, that soft and half-faded expression that Achilles wanted to drown in. “I could have a pet nowadays, but I haven’t really thought about it much.” 

Achilles had to stop himself from saying anything stupid, like how he’d love to adopt a dog with Patroclus or how Patroclus looked like a model in the flourescent diner lights. 

“What did you want to be when you were a child?” Achilles asked instead. 

“I always wanted to help people. For a while, I thought I would become a lawyer.” Patroclus snorted. “Then I realized how much time that would take and that most lawyers are, well, not the helpful kind.”

“So you went from too much school to being an EMT and now you work for a non-profit. You’re a hero in your own right, really.” Achilles shrugged, hoping he wasn’t coming on too strong. Then again, the hope for that was maybe several hours ago. “Really, people spend so much time honoring us but they forget the normal people. Ah, not like you are normal—”

Patroclus chuckled. “I know what you meant.”

The door opened again and Eurydice entered with their dessert in tow. It looked bigger than usual and had two scoops of ice cream when Achilles knew it was only supposed to have one. He gave her a thankful smile, which she returned with her typical look. 

“Any refills I can get you two gentlemen?” She asked. 

“No, but let me pay you now.” Achilles handed her a few hundred dollars — more than enough for the meal twice over, even with tip included. Patroclus was slow going to his own wallet and Achille shook his head. “My treat. I was the one who asked you.”

“All right,” Patroclus slowly agreed, “But only if I can pay for the next time.” 

Achilles could have jumped out of his seat and run three laps around the city. As it was, he just blushed and fought the urge to cheer. Eurydice chose that moment to make a strategic exit. 

“Is that a promise?” He asked, as if he hadn’t heard Patroclus the first time. 

Patroclus nodded. His dark eyes were like molasses, deep and wonderful and promising something oh-so sweet.

“If you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” Achilles breathed. He reached across the table, was just an inch too far to grab Patroclus’s hand — but no, Patroclus leaned forward and their fingers laced together. He was just as warm as Achilles thought he would be, his palms soft but his nails a bit jagged. Achilles felt something settle in his chest, his heart’s beating finally falling into place. “Always.” 

“That does not sound too terrible,” Patroclus replied. “Thank you, Myrmidon. I have greatly enjoyed this night.” 

“As did I.” They smiled at one another. Achilles didn’t feel like he needed to say anything else. What else could he say? Words were unnecessary with the connection that they had. Indeed, Achilles had no idea how he had survived before this. 

_ Let this never end, _ he thought. 

"Will you walk me home tonight?" Patroclus asked, and he might as well have shot Achilles with how his heart skipped a beat. "Not for — I am not proposing more. Not that I am not interested, but I prefer to take things slower."

"I agree. But I would be honored to walk you home." 

****

As far as enemies went, the Bone Hydra was not the worst. It really didn’t have a greater mind or purpose beyond destroying things and the worst part was that one had to keep track of the many heads. Oh, and sometimes it shot fireballs from one of its many mouths. But it wasn’t really cruel, not the way humans could be, so it was one of Achilles’s favorite foes. 

Not that he was really pondering the different pros and cons of fighting things, not while he was doing his best to avoid being crushed in the powerful jaws. 

“Myrmidon! Where do you need me?” It was Zagreus, zipping through the streets with streaks of gold and silver behind him. Lightning seemed to blossom from his steps and one bolt actually broke a window — one of the few that the Bone Hydra hadn’t shattered already. 

“Help protect civilians,” Achilles ordered. He spun his spear in the air as he jumped from a balcony to a flickering neon sign. He grabbed onto it with one hand, flipped in the air, and then launched himself towards the Hydra as it barrelled down Main Street. “Hiya!” His spear went right through its third vertebra, but it only roared in protest. 

Achilles clung onto his spear as he was shaken around like a ragdoll, his muscles bulging from the effort. He could hear sirens and screaming, as well as Zagreus trying to tell people to be calm and follow him. There was only a matter of time before other heroes showed up, but this was Achilles’s zone and he could do this. 

With a heave, he pulled himself up so he was clinging to the bottom of the head’s jaw. He yanked his spear free, twirling it before stabbing upwards. The head, as they were apt to do, exploded into a million hot shards. Good, because now he had defeated three of the five. Bad, because he was falling to the ground about fifty or so feet below him. 

Heroic landings were very overrated. They tended to result in broken ankles and shattered kneecaps. Achilles ducked and rolled when he hit the pavement. The air still flew from his lungs and he could something snap, but the adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he didn't feel pain. 

In the distance, the sound of a news helicopter started to approach. There were several fires consuming nearby buildings, though the two remaining heads were no longer rampaging through downtown. Instead they both had turned to look at Achilles, who gave them a cheeky grin. 

This was what he loved about being a hero. 

Achilles stepped forward, feeling a gust of wind billow through his cloak and tasting blood on his teeth. He couldn't see anyone nearby, but there were almost certainly cameras on him as two hydra heads started charging at him. They were each the size of a school bus with long, skeletal tails the size of a passenger plane curving behind them. It could crush him with a single blow. 

His motto coursed through his veins.  _ Fear is for the weak. _ His spear came up, the metal just an extension of his own body. He felt for the wind, watched the Hydra open one mouth and roar, and then—! 

The spear flew through the air, spinning with grace, and shot through the Hydra's skull. The head shattered and Achilles, not letting the last one react, dashed for his weapon. He grinned when his hands closed around it, bringing it up to put it between him and the fangs of the remaining head. It snarled as well as a creature of bone could, rearing back as its tail came around to knock him down. 

He jumped aside, lining up the final throw with an intake of breath. The Hydra snapped at him and its teeth closed around his arm right as the spear went flying. Flashes of pain shot up his nerves and his vision, but the spear was lodged in its skull and it exploded not long after. 

Achilles grit his teeth, breathing heavily. Almost as soon as the area was cleared, reporters started to swarm him. Zagreus was running up as were several paramedics, the ambulance lights casting color over the shattered glass and rubble that filled the area. It was rare that the Bone Hydra came out — the creature hadn't shown its face in a few years. But the city was fine. Everyone was safe again. The noble hero Myrmidon had slayed it once more. 

"Myrmidon, can we get a statement for the citizens of the city?"

"Myrmidon, how do we know the Hydra won't return?" 

"Myrmidon, are you okay? Are those injuries serious?" 

His helmet hid his face which was good, because he wasn't sure he had the energy for a smile. He still posed, spear stuck in the ground and his other hand clenched in a fist. Achilles didn't look at it. He was pretty sure that the bone was visible. 

"I am happy the city is safe! With the help of my apprentice, we have kept damage to a minimum. However, there is still work to be done. I encourage everyone to stay clear while the emergency services assist from here." He shook his head at the paramedics who were heading towards him. They exchanged incredulous looks, but went to help some of the civilians. 

Achilles could feel his body healing itself. He had the almost unbearable urge to eat his weight in protein and spinach before going to sleep for a year or three. The pain was still present, but he was used to ignoring it. He just wanted to lay down, was all. Unfortunately, the reporters didn’t look like they wanted to give an inch. 

“Do you have any statement on the current drama among the Olympians? Do you think that we should be worried about the so-called Titans League?” 

“Myrmidon, is there anyone special in your life?” The reporters kept a few feet away, as if they were concerned about getting blood on their microphones. 

_ Or maybe they’re scared of the spear, _ Achilles thought, though it had been pretty badly mangled in the fight. 

“The Titans League have made many bold claims. However, I know that I can stop anything they dare do.” Achilles decided to ignore the question about his personal life. He didn’t hide his attraction to men, it just… never came up. 

“So you don’t think they’re a threat?”

“What are your thoughts on the economy?” It took everything in Achilles’s power not to groan at the question. 

"I think that we appreciate your questions, but we have to make sure that the rest of the city is still safe." Zagreus, bless him, was never much for questions either. "Are there any important questions that absolutely cannot wait?" 

"Is there anything you can say to reassure the people of the city that they will be safe here?" Someone shouted. Zagreus glanced at Achilles. It was inevitable, really. 

He hoisted his spear in the air. "Fear is for the weak!" He shouted. A great cheer went up and, while the crowd was enthusiastic, Achilles stepped back. With a final wave and a quick glance to make sure Zagreus would follow, he departed. 

****

Zagreus had wanted Achilles to come back to the House of Hades where they could rest, wait for their injuries to heal, and discuss next steps with the others. But while the House was like a second home nowadays, it was also perpetually cold and dimly lit and Achilles always felt bad getting blood on the expensive leather furniture. 

He also didn't want to go to his own home, which was comfortable but lonely and also low on food since he hadn't had a chance to go grocery shopping yet. 

So he went to Patroclus. 

His apartment was a tiny thing but the lights all worked and there was a flower bed with daisies and wildflowers out front. It was nice. Achilles might have only been there once, but he knew where it was better than his own apartment already. 

He also must have been expected because he hardly had rung once before the intercom beeped and an incredulous Patroclus said, 

"Weren't you thirty minutes away?" 

"I am the fastest hero alive," Achilles said. He didn't even ask to be let in as the door buzzed and he was able to head inside. He took the stairs two at a time, heading up to the third floor where Patroclus was waiting. 

Even in a simple T-Shirt and jeans, Patroclus looked amazing. He didn't give Achilles any time to admire his appearance though, rushing him inside before anyone could see him. Achilles went up the stairs four at a time and, sooner rather than later, he was sitting on the couch. A first aid kit was propped open, fully stocked, and Achilles almost asked if it was a regular piece of equipment in Patroclus’s possession or if this was just for him. 

"What hurts?" Patroclus asked, kneeling in front of Achilles. 

"Um." The answer was  _ everything _ as Achilles had pushed himself to get to Patroclus, but he wasn't about to admit that. He held up his injured arm, which was healed enough so it wasn't actively bleeding anymore. "It got me pretty bad." 

Patroclus sighed and, with practiced hands, picked up a bottle of disinfectant and a roll of bandages. Then, with care brought from years of practice, he began to patch Achilles up. 

"I watched it on the television," Patroclus murmured. "You seemed very small compared to it."

"I've killed it before," Achilles said, trying to reassure him. 

"And no doubt you will kill it again." 

"Of course." Achilles hissed as his wounds were cleaned. Patroclus paused but Achilles just nodded. "It is fine. Usually — Usually I just let them heal on their own." 

"It is a wonder you have no scars." His sentence was an observation, the clinical truth. It was comforting, somehow, knowing that Patroclus saw this as he would any other patient. 

"My powers are not just strength and speed. I'm not truly invulnerable, but it is hard to hurt me and I hear faster than any other." Achilles could feel himself slipping back into his persona and he swallowed it back down. "I hope I did not worry you."

"Oh, you did." Patroclus paused, checking his work. There was something in his eyes that Achilles couldn’t quite grasp. "But I suppose this is something I will have to get used to." 

"It's not usually the Bone Hydra," Achilles pointed out. 

"Yes, it usually is worse." Patroclus resumed his tasks, moving to Achilles's other arm before starting to check his head and face. "I see the news. I know what you go through. It is different, now."

"I am sorry to worry you," Achilles said. He wasn't sure if he meant it. 

“You do not need to give me useless platitudes,” Patroclus told him. He finished examining Achilles’s face and, content, sat down against his heels. “Do you need pain meds?” 

Despite himself, Achilles laughed. “They do not work very well on me, I am afraid. But you are kind to offer.” He licked his lips and was suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to kiss Patroclus. And what was holding him back? “Do you trust me?” 

Patroclus nodded. 

“Close your eyes?” Achilles half-whispered. There was a moment where neither of them breathed. Then, with a shaky intake of air, Patroclus closed his eyes. 

With hardly a pause to consider how this could backfire, Achilles slipped his helmet off. His hair fell around his shoulders, tight golden curls happy to be freed from their confinement. He stared at Patroclus’s lips. They parted, a question hovering, and Achilles decided to take his chance then. 

Achilles kissed Patroclus. It felt like stars going supernova behind Achilles’s eyelids, like his heart was trying to jackhammer its way out of his ribcage. Patroclus wasn't soft. His lips were chapped, and his beard was rough under Achilles's hand. But he leaned into the kiss eagerly, eyes squeezed shut. He did not even try to take a peak at Achilles’s face. He grasped the front of Achilles's chiton, ignoring the blood and sweat stains. 

As far as first kisses went, Achilles perhaps wouldn't have wanted it to be while he was staining Patroclus's couch with his blood. But it was still perfect. It felt like finding the perfect pair of jeans, like smelling the laundry detergent from your childhood or hearing a song that you loved in high school. 

It was nostalgic and wasn't that funny? Achilles had never kissed Patroclus before, but it felt like he should have been doing so this whole time. 

Unfortunately, it had to end. 

Achilles had to breathe and Patroclus echoed the shaky exhale. His eyelids twitched but he kept them closed. 

"Was that… okay?" Achilles asked.

Patroclus smirked. "I'm not sure. I think we should try again, just to make sure it was not a fluke." 

And Achilles was in no position to ever deny Patroclus what he wanted. 

They kissed. They kissed. They kissed. Patroclus with his eyes shut the whole time, but his hands explored Achilles's broad shoulders and his fingers tangled up in his hair and he traced soft, meaningless patterns against his cheeks. 

"Stay the night," Patroclus murmured, lips brushing against Achilles's lips. "I have a sleep mask somewhere. Or I can stay in another room." 

And oh, Achilles knew how bad of an idea this was, but did he yearn. He was about to agree when there was a beep. 

Startled, Achilles jerked back. He slammed his helmet on and tapped on one of his bracers. It glowed and the stone turned reflective, then showed him the face of one very angry Hades. If Achilles was more of a coward, he would have yelped.

“Lord Hades, what do I owe the honor?” He asked. In front of him, Patroclus opened his eyes. He looked a little put out, making him the second person in the city to openly display annoyance at one of the top heroes. Hades might have retired from active patrol to run his own group years ago, but that didn’t make him less formidable. 

“Myrmidon, I do not care what my son says. You need to be cleared by one of our doctors! Now, come back and we can replace your spear.” Hades did have a point. Achilles’s current equipment was hardly up to scuff. Still… 

Patroclus’s offer was tempting. Maybe he would have taken it in another life. 

“Of course, Lord Hades,” Achilles said. He ended the call. Patroclus swallowed, his Adam’s Apple bobbing. “Duty calls,” Achilles told him. 

  
“A shame.”

“Yes.” Achilles stood, mirrored by Patroclus. He reached out and carefully ran his fingers through Patroclus’s hair. “I’ll text you as soon as I am free. I promise.” The two of them stared at one another. Achilles knew he was quite the sight, even after being patched up, but he could only hope that the softness in Patroclus’s eyes was not out of pity. 

No, he knew it wasn’t. In truth, Achilles could only hope that he deserved the trust that Patroclus placed in him. 

“You know, it is hard for me to think of what to do for our next date,” Patroclus suddenly said. Achilles tilted his head. “You see, most places would be very concerned if a man wearing a helmet came into the building.”

“I am a hero. We get certain privileges,” Achilles reminded him, not sure where Patroclus was going with this. 

“Oh, I am certain, but can you imagine sitting in a movie theater while your helmet blocks the seat behind you? So rude.” Patroclus gave him a sly grin. “I thought of going to something more athletic, like real young men, but I do not fancy my chances in paintball.”

“I’d never harm you,” Achilles swore. “I’d kill anyone that hurt you.”

“That would be quite the headline — Famous Hero Myrmidon Kills Three In Paintball! No, no, I jest. I know you would not actually do so.”

Achilles huffed. “A one versus three is hardly fair for them.” He rolled his shoulders. There was still stiffness, but it was much better. “Thank you. I am sure the doctor will be much impressed.”

“Is it still Lady Nyx? I have heard good things of her.” Patroclus started to reach out, then dropped his hands back to his sides. “But you should go. Wouldn’t want to keep Lord Hades waiting.” 

“I am the only one who can get away with it.” Achilles still didn’t leave. “Pat — I — Thank you. It sounds so inadequate, but—”

Patroclus chuckled. “I just wrapped some bandages around your hands. A Boy Scout could have done that, and most likely cleaner. It has been sometime since I have actively performed first aid. I will need to brush up on my technique.” 

“I feel that I should be insulted by how certain you are that I will be injured.” 

“Am I wrong?”

Achilles didn’t answer. Patroclus laughed again. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to the side of Achilles’s helmet. Even though he couldn’t feel it, Achilles still shivered. 

“Stay safe, hero. Come back to me in one piece.”

“For you.” Achilles took Patroclus’s hand and squeezed it. “A question before we part. Is the fire escape safe?” 

“Oh? I believe it is. Why—” Before he could finish, Achilles put his free hand on Patroclus’s shoulder and dipped him. He nudged his helm up, revealing the bottom half of his face. It was just enough so they could kiss, Patroclus clinging onto him and trusting Achilles not to let him fall. Then, before he could well and truly neglect his duties, Achilles went to the window.

He threw it open and threw himself out of it, catching himself on the rusty fire escape. A stray cat screeched as his cloak fluttered behind him. He resolutely did not check to see if Patroclus was watching him climb up the wall and onto the roof, but if he flexed a bit more than necessary while doing so, well, that was between him and the nest of pigeons he ran into halfway up. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to scream about Patrochilles with me on [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/ashes8012)


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